


Music from the past

by Shadowcat221b



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, based on Louden Swain´s Angela, for the Louden Swain Writing Challenge, songfic (i guess)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat221b/pseuds/Shadowcat221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds an old mp3 player in his stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music from the past

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear reader :)  
> This was written for the Louden Swain Writing Challenge on tumblr.  
> Unbeta´d.  
> Love,  
> the shadowcat

Sam is cleaning out his closet in his bedroom in the bunker as he stumbled over a small box labeled Stanford. He opened it, finding his old mp3 player. He pressed the powerbutton. Nothing happened, what a surprise.

But right there, beside the mp3 player, was the charger.

About three hours later the mp3 player was fully charged again. Sam took it, plugged in his earphones, set the player on shuffle and started cleaning the kitchen.

Most of the music he hadn´t heard in a few years, so it was a pleasant travel to the past, some songs had him dancing, some smiling and some reminiscing about his time at college.

Just as he was drying some plates, he heard two familiar chords being struck.

His movement stilled as the chords were repeated, music like the sunlight streaming through the trees back when he had first heard the song.

 

_The night it brings a multitude of creeps and beggars in..._

_Walking in a circle trapped in this foreign land_

_Waiting on something, something real_

God, he had been young back then, so young and naive. Sam remembered going to Stanford, leaving everything behind, Dad. Hunting. Dean.

And one day he stumbled across that cd, Sky Alive by Louden Swain, in a small record store by campus and he had bought it on a whim.

 

_I fly above it all and I feel the moonlight breeze_

_Not even thinking why I´m flying with such ease_

That had been exactly how he had felt back then. Nothing could touch him. He was studying law at freaking Stanford, that was amazing. He had a girlfriend, a chance at a full ride. All his dreams laid out infront of him. At least that was what he told himself.

 

_Angela you knew I´d come down, grass in my teeth, shame on me_

But he couldn´t leave hunting behind. He hadn´t believed Dean when he had told him that, the night he had left for Stanford. "Sammy, whatever happens, you can´t leave hunting! It is in your blood!"

 

_This mortality it seeds_

 

If he hadn´t been so stupidly blue eyed, Jessica would still be alive. Dean wouldn´t have sold his soul for him.  
Dean wouldn´t have died. For him.

 

_Reminds me I´m not free_

 

The plate in Sam´s hand was still dripping a little, the cloth in his hand forgotten.

Sam remembered when he had first heard the song, it had been raining and he was on his way to the bus station. And when the Louden Swain guy had started to sing the sky had cleared a little, a few rays of sunshine peeking out.

Sam hadn´t thought much of it then but now it seemed important to him.

The song felt like that sunshine in the rain, filling him with warmth and a tint of sadness.

The second verse washed over him.

 

_I woke up from my dream, shame on me_

"Dad´s on a hunting trip and he hasn´t been home in a few days."

 

Yeah, he had woken up alright. Seeing Jess burning on the ceiling had made sure he wouldn´t dream for quite a long time.

And all that time Dean had been there for him. Dean had sold his soul for him.

And Dean had been his Angela. In a twisted way Dean had always been his Angela.

The song rose, a little melancholic but hopeful. Hopeful.

 

_You set me right_

_you set me right_

_you set me right_

The plate in Sam´s hands was now dry, He set it aside absentmindedly as the song came to an end.

 

about thirty minutes after his trip to the past Sam passed the door to the room Chuck was staying in. He heard the strumming of a guitar and then a voice singing

 

_I dreamed I was a diver with a life supply of air_

Sam skidded to a halt. No. Not possible. Chuck sounded exactly like Louden Swain guy, that was... Sam shook his head.

He couldn´t believe that. Ok. Maybe he could.

Maybe it was no accident that he had discover Angela only days before his brother had shown up at his door.

 

The next time he saw Chuck was at dinner.

"That´s what I made ears for", Chuck winked.

Dean raised his eyebrow questioningly.

Sam smiled.


End file.
